


John's Person

by WeWillSpockYou



Category: Almost Human
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeWillSpockYou/pseuds/WeWillSpockYou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Last week's episode, Arrhythmia, got me thinking about who was there for John when he woke up from his coma. We know John was there for Dorian when he was reactivated and that Dorian considers John his person. As the week went on, this concept of who was that person for John just stuck with me, at first I thought it was Maldonado, but I just couldn't get that dog to hunt. We also really have no mention of anyone else in his life other than his former girlfriend.  In my mind the only person it could have been for him was a nurse in the hospital.  Also, keep your eyes open for a certain country doctor making a cameo appearance! This is my first attempt at this, so let's hear what you think!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Damn it, where are my shoes,” Isabella moaned, one eye on the clock, noting she was about to miss her bus. Finally locating her worn pair of nurses’ whites in the vegetable crisper, she was out the door into an absolute deluge. She could only wonder where on earth her umbrella was, “probably in the bathtub,” Isabella muttered as a large truck splashed past her, drenching everything in sight. All she could do was laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.  
Finally arriving at the hospital, Isabella punched the clock a whopping thirty-five minutes late and sighed as she knew there would indeed be hell to pay. “Where the hell have you been Tinkerbell?” Nurse Ratched, err Robinson asked with a sneer on her face that would have sent small children into their mother’s arms screaming.  
“It’s Isabella and I got caught in the rain and missed my bus.” It took all she had to keep her tone light and care free, she needed to keep this job very badly.  
“Well Isabella, you’ll be working with the vegetables tonight on the fifth floor.”  
What on earth was this woman talking about, some kind of shift in the kitchen? “I’m sorry, Nurse Robinson, vegetables?” Isabella could feel a headache coming on at the base of her skull.  
Sighing heavily, Nurse Robinson said, “Yeah you know, the baked potatoes on the fifth floor.” Seeing no sign of recognition in Isabella’s eyes, she continued, “The stalks of broccoli that just lie around and take valuable bed space away from those who can actually benefit from our help.”  
Oh. “I assume you mean the patients in the comatose ward?”  
“Yes dearie,” Robinson sneered, “They are all yours, every last, blessed cauliflower.” 

@@@@

The fifth floor was morose and quiet. Floor tiles were cracked and the paint was peeling off the walls in some spots, no art adorned the walls and the ward was cold, dead, lifeless. Isabella shivered and drew her arms around herself in a quick hug before walking to the charge desk. A middle-aged woman with horn rimmed glasses sat at the desk, slumped over, a tiny trickle of drool running from her mouth to her shoulder. The name tag she wore identified her as Nurse Sullivan. “Excuse me, Nurse Sullivan,” No response. “Nurse Sullivan, HELLO!” The other woman snorted as she woke up and looked at Isabella.  
“You my replacement, kid?” Nurse Sullivan asked, rubbing sleepily at her eyes.  
“Yes, I’m Nurse Bonasera.” Isabella replied  
“Hmmm, yeah, well goodnight.” Sullivan muttered as she grabbed up her things.  
“Wait, where is your shift change report? What do I need to know about the overnight for these patients?”  
This drew genuine laughter from Sullivan, “Here’s your report, sweetie, you have one patient, some hotshot, dumb-as-bricks cop named Kennex who got himself blown up playing hero yesterday, and won’t make it through the night. Enjoy the peace and quiet.” Isabella watched in horror as the paragon of benevolence known as Nurse Sullivan walked toward the elevator.  
“John R. Kennex,” Isabella read from the chart sitting on the desk, “41 years of age, admitted with right leg amputation and severe blast trauma associated with close proximity to an explosive device. Condition: grave. Religious affiliation: none.” She could hear the swoosh of the ventilator, and the mechanical beeps from the machines that monitored heart rate and blood pressure from down the hall. Walking into the room, she called out, “Hi Mr. Kennex, how are you this evening?” Silence from the patient was her only answer. Standing next to the bed took Isabella’s breath away; this man looked like Boris Karloff in that ancient movie called The Mummy. The only open piece of skin that was visible, not wrapped in bandages was his right hand. Quickly placing her warm hand over John’s cool skin, she whispered, “My name is Isabella, but my friends call me Bella, it’s nice to meet you John. It’s going to be just the two of us tonight, so no getting fresh, you hear?” Isabella giggled into the silence and prayed for this man so grievously wounded, he was not expected to see the sun rise.  
@@@@  
“Well John, I see you are defying popular wisdom and the predictions of the almighty Nurse Sullivan in deciding to stay with us a little longer.” Isabella giggled, resting her hand on top of John’s once again. “I brought you a present, John, yes I know, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. “ She reached into her hobo bag and pulled out an old, worn copy of the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. “I know it’s crazy to be holding an actual book in 2046, but I can’t let go of the feeling of having their weight in my hands, I don’t know, like the story is proving its worth with its weight. Anyway, John, if you haven’t read this before you are in for a real treat, but promise you won’t laugh at my horrible English accent, okay? Great, here we go,” clearing her throat she began to read aloud.  
@@@@  
The day the bandages came off John’s face and head was happy day for Isabella. It had been one very long, tiring month since the wounded and battle weary cop became her patient. Now that the wrappings were gone she could see a head of thick brunette hair, not a strand of grey in sight, hairline not receding one damn bit. “I had a feeling you would be a looker, John!” Running her hands through his shaggy hair, she said,” if you would only open your eyes for me. Come on John, just once, open those beautiful eyes.” Bella sighed as she stroked John’s face willing him to wake up with every fiber of her soul.  
@@@@  
“HAHA, John, you are NOT going to believe what happened today,” Bella sang out as she swept into John’s room setting down a miniature Christmas tree on the table near his bed. “Nurse Sullivan was fired!! Now John, I know it’s not nice to be happy at her misfortune, but she was the worst nurse this hospital has ever had!! Wait, what’s that, John?? I knew you would want to know what happened!! You are such a gossip, John,” Bella said as she took her usual seat, picking up John’s hand, “It seems she was caught in a compromising position in the 4th floor broom closet,” Bella dissolved into a fit of giggles that lasted several minutes, and when she caught her breath again, she said, “She was found in the closet, holding a bottle of Jack and making out with the mop handle, singing some crazy rendition of an old song, ‘If you like it you shoulda put a ring on it,’ or something like that!! I know, crazy huh!!!” Kissing his forehead lightly, she whispered, “Wake up John, it’s almost Christmas.”  
@@@@  
“Well Mr. Lazybones, since you refuse to wake up and unwrap your Christmas gift, I will have to do it for you!” Bella sighed, picking up the small wrapped package, “Ohh, John, look, it’s an old copy of The Hobbit! Now that we’ve been through all of the adventures of Sherlock and Watson, Santa must have thought fantasy was the way to go! I could not agree with him more! Did you read these stories when you were younger, John? I bet you were so handsome with that shaggy hair driving the girls crazy! I doubt you would have noticed me, the quiet girl sitting alone quickly memorizing Italian verbs during lunch so that her father wouldn’t beat her black and blue for missing one conjugation. Would you have protected me, John?” Bella whispered as her tears flowed freely, “Would you have saved me?” Picking up the book and wiping her tears on the sleeve of her sweater, she began to read to him.  
Hours later, Bella brushed back the hair from John’s forehead and smiled at him. “No, it’s okay that I didn’t get my Christmas wish John, you’ll wake up tomorrow, I know you will, you have to. Merry Christmas, John.”  
@@@@  
“Happy first day of spring, John!” Bella called out as she swept into the room, a terra cotta pot of blooming pansies in hand. “Now that spring has sprung, it’s time to get you ready for the great outdoors! Which magazines do we read first? Hunter’s Digest, Bass Fishing Today, Gardening America, Guns and Ammo?? Okay, Guns and Ammo it is.” Picking up John’s hand, Bella began to read. 

@@@@  
“Guess what I got for my birthday John??? No, not that beautiful scarf I showed you the picture of last week! Give up? My mother! Can you believe that, my mother, all the way here from Boston, SURPRISE! She’s re-arranging all of my things, constantly telling me to hurry up and get married so she’ll have grandbabies to spoil. She’s making me crazy, John. Of course she would love you, all handsome and irresponsible, she’d be yelling at you to get the hell up, get a dammed job and marry my damn daughter! Not that she isn’t right, John, at least the part about getting the hell up.” Placing her hands on John’s face, she whispered, “Please wake up John, please.”  
@@@@  
“John?? It’s Bella, I’m finally back from vacation, did you miss me??” She was stroking a finger down the side of his face into his long beard as she absently read his chart. “No visitors while I was gone, John? I’m sorry, I tried calling the contacts in your phone to tell them it was okay to visit you, they must have such busy lives, you know with wives and kids and dogs and stuff.” She began weeping uncontrollably and gasped out, “Paris wasn’t the same without you, John, but I brought you this.” Bella reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny replica of the Eiffel Tower and set it the palm of his hand, wrapping his fingers around it.  
@@@@  
“Aaachoooo!” Bella sneezed loudly into the crook of her arm. “Sorry John, got this dammed cold while I was serving the line at the soup kitchen on Thanksgiving Day and it won’t let go of me. Oh and I got us a new book to read, I am not sure if you’ll like this one, actually, I am sure you will HATE it, hahahaha. It’s called One Night with a Duke! Yup, we’re gonna read every blasted soppy romance novel I can get my hands on until you OPEN YOUR EYES for me John! Any questions? Nope? Let’s read!”  
@@@@  
“Hey, it’s our second Christmas together John! Wait until you see what I have for you, this is so amazing you will jump up from this bed and dance, this gift is so good!” Bella lifted the large box onto her lap and began to unwrap the bright paper covered in poinsettias. “Taaaa daaaa!” Bella announced as she pulled out a shiny motorcycle helmet. “Your old neighbor, Mrs. Paul, finally returned my calls about where your things were sent after your accident. It turns out your bike was sold to some scrap metal vendor downtown. When I called them to locate your bike they just laughed and laughed at me when I told them I wanted it rebuilt, telling me I could never afford to pay what this would cost to restore. Well, you know me John, I wasn’t going to take that answer lying down, so I explained to them that you are a police officer who was badly wounded in service to this very city and wouldn’t the news stations LOVE a bedside interview with your valiant nurse describing your struggle to survive and the rotten men who refuse to give a wounded warrior his greatest wish! So, to make a long story very short, your bike is in the safe keeping of your old Captain, Sandra Moldonado. The bike will be waiting for you when you wake up John, just like I will.”  
@@@@  
“Being transferred across town to County General? I don’t understand, Dr. McCoy.” Bella sat dumbfounded as the doctor explained the new changes.  
“Your work on the Kennex case has been exceptional and we would like you to be the department head over at County to oversee similar long term care cases. Congratulations, Bella, this is a well deserved honor. Your duties will begin in two weeks.”  
“Honor, my ass,” Bella mumbled under her breath as she got off the elevator on the fifth floor and walked slowly down the hall.  
“Well John, this is it, as they say, where the rubber meets the road. “ Bella sat in her favorite chair and lifted the purple throw pillow onto her lap, “I have some amazing news to share, I’ve been given a promotion in recognition of the work I have done here with you. It means better hours and a lot more money. So why am I crying? I don’t want to leave you John. I never knew it was possible to fall in love with you John. I’ve been sitting here day after day for the last seventeen months, telling you about my life, reading you stories and falling hopelessly in love with you. I don’t even know what color your eyes are or if you played soccer in high school, but you are the love of my life. Please John, please wake up now for me please!” With her tears flowing freely, she reached out for his hand and placed its cool palm against her cheek. “You know,” Bella giggled through her tears, “If this were a movie, you would wake up now and tell me you loved me too, that you heard my voice all this time and that is what carried you through.”  
@@@@  
The jangling of the ringing phone woke Bella at 5:30 A.M. she rolled over and answered the phone, “Yeah?”  
“This is your answering service, Miss Bonasera, you are needed urgently back at the hospital.” Bella never remembered her feet hitting the floor.  
She sprinted through the pouring rain to her bus, through the flooded parking lot and into the hospital, slipping on the wet floor tiles as she scrambled for an elevator. When the doors opened on the fifth floor, she ran full out to John’s room and saw Dr. McCoy standing at John’s bedside. “Oh good, you’re here,” The doctor said with a small smile on his face. “I think Kennex is waking up.”  
“John?” Bella said walking over to his still sleeping form and picking up his hand, “Can you hear me, John? Hey, it’s Bella, open your eyes for me, John.” John’s eyelids gave a small flutter before they opened slightly, staring up a Bella’s face. “Hazel,” She thought, “his eyes are hazel.” That was her last thought as the room erupted in chaos. Bella knew she would never see John again.  
@@@@  
Two weeks later, John Kennex sat up in his bed and finally had a good look around at the room that had been his private hell on earth for the last seventeen months. To the right of his bed was the ugliest yellow chair he had ever seen in his life, a gaudy purple throw pillow adding insult to injury. On the small table next to “the chair” was a stack of books. He reached out and gathered them into his arms. “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Hobbit, One Night with a Duke???” He read, incredulous, “Who the hell reads this crap?” He opened to the cover page of one of the novels and saw a name printed in purple ink, it read: Isabella Bonasera. “Ah,” John thought to himself, she must be the purveyor of that God awful chair. Turning slowly in his bed, John saw the cork board behind his bed was covered in greeting cards for all kinds of crazy occasions; there were birthday and Christmas cards, but also cards for Halloween and Arbor Day. “For fuck’s sake,” John grumbled, “who the hell sends a card for Arbor Day?” He carefully unpinned each of the cards from the board and began to read through them. Each had some kind of crazy line written inside, such as, “One ring to rule them all,” Whatever the hell that means, John thought to himself, but noticed each card was signed the same way, “Love, Bella,” in that purple ink he had seen earlier. Who the hell was this girl?  
On the table to his left was an odd assortment of things, two miniature Christmas trees, a stack of outdoor magazines, a motorcycle helmet and a tiny replica of the Eiffel Tower. Picking up the small tower, he wondered what sort of fucking nightmare he had woken to find himself living. Paris? When the fuck was a one-legged man going to get to Paris? John closed his hand around the tiny structure and held on for dear life.  
Later that night a grumpy nurse walked in to take his temperature, AGAIN! Fuck, when was a guy supposed to get any rest with these nurses coming in an out at all hours of the night? “Who is this Bella Bonasera?” John asked the nurse before she took his blood pressure. “Her name and her things are scattered all over this room.”  
Nurse Robinson gave John the hairy eyeball as she explained, “Tinkerbell was your nurse while you were unconscious, Mr. Kennex. All of these gaudy things are hers, that thrift store chair, the moldering books she insisted on reading to you even though you couldn't hear a word, are hers, all of these cards and do-dads,” She said, picking up the Eiffel Tower, “are hers. Though what on earth a man with only one leg needs with a motorcycle helmet is beyond me.”  
“Where is she now?” John asked, snatching the Eiffel Tower from the nurse’s hand.  
“She left right after you woke up, guess the sight of you awake was the end of her twisted little romance, she must like ‘em barely breathing.”  
“How do I find her?” John asked  
“Why would you want to?”  
@@@@

The next morning the sun was shining brightly, casting a halo on the God awful purple cushion. Only it wasn’t nearly as gaudy in the morning light as John would have thought. He grabbed his crutch and swung it around to the chair, dragging it closer to his bed, leaning down he picked up the pillow and held it close to his chest. He could smell the faint odor of oranges or lemons. Did she shower with orange scented soap? Why was this scent familiar to him? He picked up The Hobbit from the table and a small photograph fell out from the pages. It was a picture of a young lady, short and brunette, by the look of it, standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, alone and holding a sign. John squinted closely at the picture trying to make out what it said on the sign, but soon gave up, turning the photo over. On the back of the photo in that same purple ink was written, “Wish you were here, John.” It was then John realized he was crying.  
John picked up the photo from France again and tried to get an idea of the girl in the picture. It was taken from so far away, probably to get the whole tower in the picture. Who took this picture, was it some random stranger, a lover, who? At least it solved one mystery, where the tiny tower had come from, he thought as he rolled the structure around in his hand. Why did its contour and shape feel so comforting? “I’m losing what’s left of my damn mind.” John mumbled.  
When Dr. McCoy walked in later that day, John was ready with a barrage of questions about the nurse with the purple pen. The doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a card which he handed to John. On the front of the card was Doctor Leonard McCoy’s business information and phone number. Written on the back of the card in purple ink, “Leo, call me the very second he wakes up, no matter what! He’s going to wake up Leo, I just know it!!!! Paris can wait!” This message was followed by a phone number. “I was wondering when you would get around to asking for this.” The doctor smiled as he spoke.  
@@@@  
It had been a long and miserable day. One of Bella’s patients, Mrs. Sawyer, had died that morning. This was the outcome more often than not in the long term care wing of County Hospital, but it didn’t stop Bella from grieving all the same. Walking in to her small apartment her only thought was a long, hot, bubble bath with that lovely orange soap her mother had sent from Florida. When her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, she contemplated not answering it. Looking at the caller ID, she saw the call was coming from Mercy General, her old hospital. She thought briefly of John before she answered the phone, “Hello?”  
A deep and strong voice replied, “Bella, this is John Kennex. I hear we traveled some together.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally meets his person in person!

Bella’s brain froze. “John?” she whispered.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“NO!” Bella practically shouted, her brain finally starting to work again. “No,” she said more calmly this time, “I just walked in the door from work. How are you, John?” How are you? The love of her life was calling her, HER and all she could do was ask how he was?

“Well I won’t be running the Boston Marathon anytime soon, but I’m getting by.”

Bella’s heart sank at the tone of hopelessness in his voice.

“I would really like to meet you, Bella, in person, with my eyes open this time. I don’t suppose you want to stop by and tell me just what happened while I was,” Was what? Sleeping? Dead? Lost? “Out?”

Bella’s heart started pounding in her chest. He wanted to see her, “Sure John, I am off work tomorrow and can come by to see you anytime you like.”   
“How about 11 A.M.?” John asked, finally starting to relax.

“Sure, it’s a date!” A date? Bella groaned inwardly. 

“Great, see you then.”

“John?” Bella asked softly, “Did you ever play soccer?”

“Soccer? Yeah, I played all through school, team captain junior and senior year.” Why was she asking about this now?

“See you tomorrow, John.” 

@@@@

Bella didn’t sleep at all that night. She kept playing the conversation with John over and over in her head, which lead her to wonder how on earth she would explain what happened while John was asleep. “Well John, I saw to your every need, read you old books, told you every detail about my lonely life, washed your hair, OH and fell in love with you along the way.” Yeah, she thought, THAT would go over well. 

@@@@

John wasn’t sleeping either, which really pissed him off. It seemed all he did since he woke up from his coma was fall back to sleep. In sleep he could break away from the harsh reality he was being forced to live. In truth, sleep was a blessing; in dreams he could run again. “You’ll be up and walking in no time,” John sneered a southern drawl, doing his best impression of Doctor McCoy. “And why the hell was that girl asking me about playing soccer? Dammit Bella,” He sighed, “damn it all.” Grabbing her purple pillow close, he breathed deeply, still able to catch the faint scent of citrus.

@@@@

Bella got off the elevator on the fifth floor and was awash in old memories of the first time she walked these halls. Turning the corner, she smiled at the charge nurse and walked into John’s room. He was not there. Releasing the breath she had not been aware she was holding, she walked toward the empty bed. How odd it was after all this time to see an empty bed. Everything was mostly where it was the last time she had been in this room and sadly noted nothing new had been added to see to John’s comfort. “What on earth is wrong with you?” A gravelly voice boomed from down the hall. Bella’s heart began to race in anticipation. A moment later, a weary looking nurse pushed John’s chair into the room. 

“Good luck to you.” She said to Bella, scowled at John and quickly left the room.

John felt his heart stop in his chest as he looked at the woman sitting in the ugly yellow chair. She was beautiful, long brunette hair with a hint of curls, deep brown eyes and this smile which just lit up her whole face. “Why couldn't she be old and missing most of her teeth?” He wondered to himself.

Moving up from her chair, Bella walked over to John and stuck her hand out. “Hi John, I’m Bella, it’s really nice to see you again.” John took her hand in his and was surrounded by the soft scent of oranges. 

She wheeled him closer to the window and closer to her own chair and resumed her seat. Reaching out she placed her hand on his and she said “How was therapy today?”  
John looked down at Bella’s hand on his, surprised by the casual contact, more surprised that he didn't pull away. “Goddamned butchers want to open up what is left of my damn leg to install a port for a synthetic leg.”

“That’s really good news, John, it means your strong enough to tolerate the surgery.” Bella’s smile was radiant.

“Yeah, well, I’m dammed sick of being poked an’ prodded.” He grumbled.

“I didn't expect you to be quite so…” Bella seemed at a loss for words.

“So what, charming? Attractive? Irresistible?” John asked, a ghost of a smile quirking his lips.

“Colorful.” Bella said with a giggle.

Oh God, she’s a giggler. If there was one thing John hated it was a woman with the tendency to giggle. John sighed and looked up at the perfect stranger sitting in front of him. “So,” he said, “explain all of this to me.” John threw his arms in the air to indicate all of the things around him. 

“It’s sort of a long story John,” Bella said.

“Yeah, all I’ve got is time.”

@@@@

“It was like a typhoon the day we met.” Bella recalled as she pushed John through the walled garden in the center of the hospital grounds. “It was pouring like crazy and I couldn't find my shoes,” John wondered what the hell the weather had to do with her lost shoes; his shoes were always on the rubber mat near the door, where they belonged. “Watching over you in the comatose ward was my punishment for being late.” Bella said on a heavy sigh. She positioned the chair with John’s face to the sunshine, near a stone bench, upon which she perched herself. “You weren't expected to survive the night.” Bella had a wistful look in her eyes and one small tear fell from her left eye. Swiping at the rogue tear, she continued, “God John, what a mess you were, covered in bandages, tubes and wires sticking out all over the place and the mechanical sound of the ventilator breathing for you.” Her head dipped low, lost in thought, “All I knew about you was what was written in your chart, your name, age, injuries. I had heard you were a cop and I just knew that you must be a brave and courageous man, so I decided then and there that you were going to make it through this and that I was going to be by your side every step of the way.”  
John was dumbfounded by this woman. She was so calm and intelligent, sane, not at all what he expected from a woman who favored ugly chairs and old novels. “So why weren't you at my side when I woke up? I was told you didn't want to see me once I was awake.” This upset John more than he realized and being this upset made John even angrier. Where the hell had she been?

“I had been given a promotion to a hospital across town, thanks to the work I had done with you. My last day at the hospital was the day you woke up, John.” Bella met his eyes and smiled a sad smile. “I was there when you opened your eyes for the first time. Leo, err, Doctor McCoy had me paged to your room, it was the middle of the night and of course it was raining again as I raced across town to get back here. I had never been so scared in my entire life, the message from the answering service didn't say why I was needed, just that I needed to get to you,” Bella blushed and stammered out, “or get to your room rather, as soon as possible.” 

All John could do was stare at her, she was terrified, for him? She raced out in the rain to get back to him? None of this made any sense. “What happened when you got to my room?” John asked quietly. 

John was awed by the smile that graced Bella’s face at his question. It was genuine, beautiful and all for him. “You gave me my greatest wish in this world, John,” Bella said as the tears started to fall, “You opened your eyes and looked at me.”

@@@@

It was 3 A.M. and John was still tossing and turning. He couldn't get Bella’s smile out of his head. Worse, was that he felt like a complete ass for not reaching out to her to wipe her tears from her cheeks as she cried this afternoon. “God damn it, don’t start with that again,” he growled into the empty room. How could a broken man, a man who would never be whole again, despite the miracles of modern technology, ever deserve to touch a girl like Bella? “Fuck it, misery loves company.” John sneered and grabbed for the phone Bella had brought for him today as a gift. “She said to call anytime; this seems like anytime to me.”

“John?” Bella answered, her voice soft with sleep, “Are you all right?”

Ever the nurse, John thought, “Yeah, I’m fine, can’t sleep, tell me a story.”

@@@@

John was propped up in bed with a deep scowl on his face when Bella walked into his room a week later. “Hey, you okay?” Bella asked as she sat down on the edge of his bad and grabbed for his hand.

“They’re gonna cut me open in the morning.” John grumbled.

Bella squeezed his hand and was surprised when John squeezed hers return. “It’s a big day for you and your recovery, John.” All he could do was sigh in return.  
Raising his left hand into the air above his head and motioning backward, John said, “Why don’t you tell me about all of these cards on the board back here.” Bella let go of his hand and stood up. She walked to the board and began removing the tacks from all of the cards, sorting them by date as she went.

“Scoot over, you’re hogging the bed,” Bella commanded, as she hopped up beside him, sitting shoulder to shoulder. She began to show him each card in the stack, reading the printed sentiments and her own comments, describing the images as if he couldn't see the words and pictures himself. John thought this must have been what it had been like when she opened each card for him, reading it out loud, describing the pictures, laughing at the jokes she had written inside for him. 

Looking perplexed, John said, “I still don’t understand why you did this for me.” 

Bella took the stack of cards and passed them to John, placing her hands on top of his own. Smiling she said, “So that you would know you weren't alone while you were lost, John. I wanted you to know someone was keeping watch for you; marking holidays, celebrating birthdays and milestones. I wanted you to know you were never alone, not for one second. Wanted you to know there was always someone who was pulling for you to wake up.” John’s face crumpled, tears streaming from his eyes, he grabbed for Bella and held on for dear life. 

@@@@

It was déjà vu all over again. Bella sat at John’s bedside, holding his hand waiting for him to wake up, this time from the anesthesia needed during the surgery to implant the device that would connect his synthetic leg one day. John groaned in his sleep, Bella held on tighter and cried, secure in the knowledge he would wake up any minute now.   
When John opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Bella’s face, peaceful in sleep. She was holding his hand and her face was resting on the purple pillow which was jammed behind her head. John wondered how many nights had she spent in this exact position, watching over him. He rubbed his thumb in lazy circles over palm of her hand, not wanting to disturb her sleep, but needing to touch her all the same. What had he ever done in his life to deserve this kind of devotion and loyalty? How many nights had she sat here like this with him? Bundled up in the dead of winter or wrapped in the sweet breezes of summer, anchoring him to this world as he floated lost, in another. 

@@@@

“I see you’re here for the grand unveiling,” John practically growled as Bella walked in to the PT room, ten weeks after his surgery. He was sitting in a wheelchair, nervous energy rolling off of his shoulders in waves, body coiled like a cobra ready to strike.

Bella glared right back at John, “I wouldn't miss this for the world, John. Getting your synthetic leg is a huge step for you. This is going to be the best day ever.” She walked over to him and placed her hands on his shoulders, “Relax, John,” She whispered, “You can do this, I know you can.”

“Maybe you should save all of that sunshine and rainbows crap for someone who gives a good God-damn.” John muttered, halfheartedly. Bella turned from him as Doctor McCoy walked into the room carrying John’s synthetic leg over his shoulder. It reminded Bella of a scene from Huck Finn where Huck had a bandanna with all of his worldly possessions tied to a stick that he carried over his shoulder. This was a little different. 

”Well, let’s get this party started,” Leo said, grinning from ear to ear.

@@@@

It was the worst day ever. 

Leo showed John how to attach the device. It was like magic, blue lights swirled through the opaque leg and suddenly the color of the leg matched John’s own skin. Bella was in awe of this technological marvel, but kept her thoughts to herself. 

John pushed himself forward to the edge of the chair and raised himself into a stand. He wobbled back and forth, throwing out an arm for support. Dr. McCoy grabbed hold of his arm to steady him. “It’s gonna take a little getting used to, John” Leo said, letting go of his arm and backing away. Bella was overjoyed to see John standing. She was crying silently, praying John didn’t notice. John took a tentative first step forward and kept his balance. Trying to take a second was his undoing and he lost his balance and fell flat on his face. Bella and Leo rushed over to help him. 

“I can do this my fucking self.” John raged. Bella and Leo backed off and gave him the space he needed. The next hour went by the same way, John taking a few triumphant steps, John crashing back to earth uttering strings of profanity Bella was sure would make a sailor blush, John refusing all help. Finally, after the last crash, he just lay on the floor slowly bringing his arms around to pillow his head. Bella walked over to him and knelt down in front of him. His grey t-shirt was soaked in sweat and his breathing was heavy and labored. She placed her hands on his shoulders. John exploded, “Get your fucking hands off me,” He screamed, “You need to get the hell outta here now, I fucking mean it Bella. Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Bella was felt sick to marrow of her bones . It was killing her to watch John struggle. She only wanted to help, knowing John was frustrated, angry and probably embarrassed that he was failing so spectacularly in front of her. He was spoiling for a good fight. “You know what John?” She yelled right back at him, “You’re absolutely right, I should get the hell out of here, but I’m not going to do that because I promised I would be by your side through thick and thin. So if you want me the hell out of this room, you’re going to have to pick me up and carry me out yourself.” John just stared at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. “You want to be this big, tough bastard and push everyone away John? You’re welcome to try, but if you want to be rid of me you’re going to have to earn it.” Bella pushed up to her feet, not wanting John to see the tears in her eyes that she was furiously brushing away.

John slowly rolled over onto his back and sat up, bending his left knee under him and using his hands to push himself into a stand. He limped carefully back to the wheelchair and sat down hard, sweat was rolling off his face and dripping onto his shirt. He reached down and unfastened the leg, letting it slip to the floor. He turned the wheelchair around and rolled out the door, never once looking at Bella. She began to cry, long, loud sobs that seemed to well up from the depths of her soul. “Come here sugar plum,” Leo said, as he pulled her into a rough hug and rode out the storm.

@@@@

Each day was a new level of hell for John. He woke each morning thinking of Bella, hearing the pain in her voice as she yelled at him, seeing the tears she desperately tried to hide. Wishing he had kept his fucking mouth shut and not pushed her away. “What the fuck would she want with half a man anyway?” John swore under his breath. He wished she would float back into his room, carrying in another ridiculous plant and telling him funny stories about Mr. Henson and the cat he smuggled into the hospital. He couldn't pick up the phone to call her; he just couldn't, not yet.

@@@@

It had been two weeks since the incident with John’s leg. Bella seriously wondered if she would ever see John again. Well, that wasn't entirely true, she saw him every day, getting herself across town during her lunch hour to sneak peeks of John in the PT room practicing with the synthetic leg. She made sure John never saw her and that Leo kept his mouth shut about her being there. She must have picked up her phone ten times a day to call him, but couldn't summon up the courage. Bella was knocking around her apartment getting ready to go see John’s PT session when her doorbell rang. She opened the door to see John standing there. He was holding the motorcycle helmet and a dozen purple roses. “Hi,” he said shyly, “can I come in?” 

Bella opened the door wider to let him into her small apartment; she was so shocked to see him that she didn't notice right away he was standing on his own two feet, so to speak. He followed her into the kitchen and saw she was reaching for a vase for the flowers. It was on the highest shelf and she was having trouble reaching it. He placed the flowers and helmet on the counter and stepped in behind her, feeling her back against his chest. White hot desire flashed through his body, “Allow me,” he said and grabbed the vase of its shelf, setting it down near the flowers. Bella turned around to say….something, when John held up a hand to stop her. “I was such a stupid jerk, Tinkerbell, please forgive me?” 

“I didn't think I would ever see you again,” She whispered.

John walked back to her and placed his hands on either side of her face, caressing her skin with the tips of his fingers, tipping her head up so he could see into her eyes. “Don’t give me that line of bull, missy, do you think I haven’t seen you tip-toeing around outside the therapy room every day?”

She closed her eyes, marveling in the way his hands felt on her face, breathing in the scent of his spicy aftershave. “Nice job, Sherlock,” she said, smiling up at him. “I promised to be there for you, so I was there.”

John smiled at her, his fingers tracing lightly over her face. He leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against hers. He could feel Bella hesitate for a moment, before she slipped her arms around his waist to trail up his back. John kissed her again with all of the pent up desire that had been building for months. 

Bella kissed him back, holding him as tightly as she could, not wanting John to ever stop kissing her. But he did, and stepped back from Bella with a sigh. “There is no excuse for what I did and how I, um, acted.” John slipped his hands in pockets, rocking back on his heels. He couldn't face her. He couldn't bear to see the look of rejection on her beautiful face. He knew his kiss had caught her by surprise and knew he wouldn't catch her off guard again. 

Bella thought about his apology for a moment. It wasn't poetry, but this was better, it was from his heart. “Well John, regardless of what your intentions were, they worked. I mean look at you, standing here in front of me, walking and moving like that leg has always been a part of you.” He was still staring at his feet, shuffling them around like a little boy. “I guess you’d have no problem now picking me up and carrying me right out of this room.”

John’s head snapped up. Did he hear her right? He smiled at her and she felt something let go inside, felt the fear and anxiety just melt away. “Yeah, princess, I could and much more besides.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John shows Bella just how good he's become at using his synthetic leg. Sorry guys, I tried to walk away from these two but John wouldn't let me and well, let's say he plays a bit rough!

John walked to Bella, the intent in his eyes was all too clear. He lifted her off the floor and into his arms as he pushed her back against the refrigerator. Magnets clattered to the floor, jarred by their bodies slamming into the unit. Bella’s legs circled his waist as their lips clashed against each other, tongues in a mad frenzy to learn and taste. John thrust his hips against Bella and she could feel his erection press insistently against her, could feel the heat of him, his need. “John, please,” She begged, breathless, her hands rough in his hair. “Bedroom?” John panted, backing away from the fridge. Bella threw an arm in the air and gestured wildly as she kissed him again. John walked her into the bedroom and set her down on her feet, Bella felt off-balanced and cold without John’s arms around her. Kicking off his sneakers, he grabbed for the hem of his t-shirt, intent on ripping it off, but was stayed by Bella’s hand on his. “Let me, “she practically growled up at him. John raised both hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. Bella ran her hands up under his shirt, her fingers tickled by the hair on John’s stomach; she gently tweaked both nipples which made John hiss and jump back at the contact between them. Bella smiled up at him and withdrew her hands, clutching the hem of his shirt and ripping it upward as far as she could reach. John took it off the rest of the way from there. She gently kissed the middle of his chest and stepped to the side of him, sliding her hand across the hard plain of his chest, she reached down for his left hand and ran her fingers up his forearm, playing briefly with his bicep and then up over his shoulder as she stepped behind him, hands running up the back of his neck into his hair, kissing his back as she went and giving his ass a quick squeeze. John was lost, absolutely lost in the sensations Bella’s hands and lips were sending through his body. He was harder than he could ever remember being and if he didn't touch her soon, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself from spilling in his pants. He craned his neck around trying to see her as she continued to move behind him, not leaving one inch of skin untouched by her fingers or her lips. She moved back around to stand in front of him again with a wicked little smile in her eyes. John bent down to kiss her as she moved her hands to the button of his jeans. Bella felt like she was all thumbs as she battled with John’s button, she could feel him hard as steel beneath her fingers and his cock jumped with the contact she made through the denim. Finally getting the button to release, she looked up at him, passion darkening her eyes, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she slowly slid his zipper down. “Oh God,” John moaned, as she slid one had inside his pants and around to his ass. Bella used her other hand to slowly start tugging the pants down his legs. When his pants crumpled to the floor at his feet, Bella knelt before him. She ran her hands slowly down his ass and onto his thighs. “Don’t,” John hissed through his teeth as her left hand made contact with his synthetic leg. “Please don’t,” he whimpered. “It’s as much a part of you as this is John,” Bella moaned as she licked his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs. John gasped and anchored himself to her thrusting both hands into her hair to cradle the back of her skull. Bella’s eyes locked on John’s as she continued to stroke her hands down his legs. “Tell me what it feels like John,” Bella asked, “What does my hand feel like on your leg?” What did it feel like, John asked himself? “I can feel the heat from your hand,” he whispered, “the pressure of your fingers.” Bella relaxed back on her heels and slowly leaned in closer to lick up the inside of his thigh.” John fisted his fingers in her hair, “That felt like lightning striking. God, Bella please…” She ran her hands slowly up his legs again purposely avoiding his erection and reached for the waistline of his briefs. “No, God, not yet,” he almost laughed, grabbing her hands away from him and pulling her to her feet. “I won’t last long if you keep touching me like that, Princess.” He kissed her neck, grazing her skin with his teeth. “My turn!” John whispered into her ear seconds before drawing her earlobe into his mouth. His hands grabbed for the hem of her purple hospital scrubs and he yanked the shirt up and over her head, “More purple,” he thought, taking in the lacy purple bra she wore. He bent down in front of her palming her breasts as he continued to kiss his way down her neck, collarbone and chest. He reached around and undid her bra clasps, drawing it off her shoulders then flinging it behind him. God, she was perfect, he thought as he rubbed his thumbs against her nipples. She responded to his touch immediately, nipples hardening into buds. John leaned in and began to suckle. Bella was making the sexiest damn squeaking sounds as his tongue toyed with her firm flesh. His hands moved down her narrow waist and slowly started to remove her scrub pants, revealing matching purple panties. “We really need to discuss your use of color, darlin’” He murmured with his lips dancing across the sensitive skin of her stomach. “Later, John,” she panted, “We can talk about anything you want later, but I need your mouth on me now!” He reached his fingers up and ripped the tiny panties off, Bella moaning loudly as she heard the material rip, giving way. He laid her down on the edge of bed and knelt between her legs. Lifting her legs up to rest on each of his shoulders, he leaned in and kissed her right thigh. Bella whispered his name again and again like a prayer as she dug her heels into his back, urging him closer. “So wet for me,” John said as he slowly pushed one finger inside Bella’s welcoming heat. “So wet and tight, princess,” John whispered as he licked her slowly, curling his finger inside her, tapping against her g-spot. Bella knew this sweet torture was going to kill her, but she didn't care, she just wanted more of John, wanted all he could give her. She moaned loudly as John’s tongue continued to swirl and dip and lick, his lips kissing and sucking her tender flesh. “John, please,” she managed to groan before his finger hit the right spot and all she saw were stars. John could feel her climax rip through her as her thighs shuddered and her flesh convulsed around his finger. He eased himself out of her and kissed her stomach, laughing, he scooped her up to place her higher on the bed, he shucked off his own boxer briefs and crawled back up her body. Bella looked up at him, her eyes still glassy. John kissed her deeply and she could feel the head of his cock nudge up against her. She could feel the heat and the strength in him. John placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her hard. Breaking away from her lips he growled, “You’re mine, understand that? Say it Bella, say you’re fucking mine.” For as long as she could remember, this was all she had ever wanted, couldn't believe this was happening and that he was asking this of her. “I’m yours John,” she whispered, “I always have been.” John responded by slamming his cock inside her to the hilt. “Mine, mine, mine,” he ground out, continuing his relentless thrusts into her welcoming heat. Bella’s arms were wrapped around his back, her hands wild in his hair. He knew he wasn't going to last long, how could he? It had been two long years of pain, rehab and struggle brightened only by this woman and the touch of her hands. “God baby,” John moaned as he felt his lower back tingle and his balls tighten. “Love you Bella,” John whispered as his climax swept over him, dragging Bella along with him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does a one-legged man need with a motorcycle helmet?

“Love you Bella.” She kept playing that sentence over and over again in her mind. John was starving and had gotten up to find something for them to eat. Did he even know he had said it? Her head whirled. She reached over the side of the bed and grabbed John’s t-shirt. She slipped it over her head and felt the soft material kiss her skin as the hem came to rest against her knees.

 

John strolled in at that moment carrying a plate piled high with sandwiches in one hand and his motorcycle helmet filled with bottles of water in the other. “Okay princess,” he smiled at her and sat back down resting against the headboard,” I will give you one PB&J in exchange for the story of this helmet! Deal?”

 

Bella smiled back at him and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Deal.” She said, reaching over and taking the bottles out of the helmet and then picking it up. She sighed, where to begin… “You had a lot of visitors for the first week or so after you were hurt. Guys from the force would stop in and sit with you for a minute or two, ask questions about your condition, but those visitors slowed to a trickle after a while, John. The only visitor who kept coming to see you was your captain, Sandy Moldonado. She would stop in during the early morning hours around 5 A.M. or so and she always brought me coffee, hazelnut from that little bistro on 7th. Anyway, she used to tell me stories about you; cases you’d worked, ridiculously dangerous things you’d done to save people.” Bella stopped, lost in thought.

 

John watched her, fascinated with the way her eyes told the story of her emotions, the way she twisted her hands together when she was nervous, how she sighed when she couldn't find the right words. He twisted the cap off his bottle of water and took a long sip, giving Bella time to tell the story her way. 

 

Bella looked up at him with tears threatening to spill. “I had read everything I could about the bust that landed you in the hospital, but you know how the media glosses over the facts and goes for flashy headlines like, ‘Hero cop loses limb, saves day,’ and stupid fluff like that.” She swiped at her tears, “I needed to know John, needed to know the truth about what had happened to you, who did this and why. So one morning, I asked Sandy to tell me.” She reached for him, needing some of his strength to continue on. “So she told me, John, every last detail that she could tell without putting the investigation in jeopardy. It was such a gorgeous morning, the sky was pink and coral with the sunrise, and I remember thinking I would never see the world the same way again, that I was changed, different. Here I was worrying about stuff like new nail polish when you were….”She trailed off and looked up at him, eyes wide, tears falling, “when you were protecting me with your life.”

 

It felt like someone had reached into John’s chest and was squeezing his heart. He hated that Bella had lost some of the shine of her innocence because of him. He had been reckless that day, stupid and sloppy. He thought he had paid the ultimate price for his foolishness, but somehow seeing Bella cry like this hurt more than the loss of his leg.

 

She hated crying in front of him, she wanted to be strong like he was, but she was failing badly. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, “Anyway, after Sandy told me what happened, her visits became more infrequent. I would text her to give her updates about your condition and she would text back when there were developments in your case. When my trip to France got closer, I was worried that there wouldn't be anyone who would be here for you while I was gone, no one to sit with you and hold your hand, so I went into the bag of your belongings that the hospital saved for you when you were admitted. Your phone was in the bag; gosh it was such a mess. It needed a new battery and the screen was cracked. I went through it, sending an SMS message to all of your friends asking if they could come visit you while I was gone.” She sighed and ran her fingers through his hair. “When I got home, I noticed that no one had responded to my message and worse, no one had come to see you. There I was hearing mass at Notre Dame and you were here all alone.” She began to cry then, not able to hold her guilt at bay one second longer. 

 

John held on as she cried, knew she needed to get this all out, but fuck did it hurt to see her like this. Paris should have been her dream trip, not a nightmare. “How does the helmet figure into all of this?” He whispered into her hair. 

 

Bella laughed at that, “Good question, but raise your hand and wait to be called on next time!” They both laughed and Bella felt the weight on her heart lighten. “Christmas was coming, our second Christmas together and I wanted to get you the best present ever, so here it is,” she said, slapping her hand on the helmet.

 

“You got a motorcycle helmet for a one-legged man?” 

 

“Yup, best present ever!”

 

“Not to question your gift giving motives, princess, but I still don’t get it. You tell an interesting story, but it seems to me, you’ve left out the story!” He poked her in the ribs and she started to giggle. She moved herself so that she was sitting in his lap, head on his shoulder, hands in his hair. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his face on her hair.   
“Open the small drawer of the nightstand, John.”

 

“You ready for round two, baby girl?”

 

She held on tighter, breathing him in, “Haha, do you see a manila envelope with your name written on it?”

 

“Yeah, it’s here,” he said.

 

“Open it up, John.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“It has your name on it, doesn't it?”

 

John reached into the drawer and pulled out the envelope. He looked inside and pulled out a stack of photos and a set of keys. His jaw dropped at what he saw. The first picture was the broken down frame of a Harley Davidson, HIS Harley as he looked closer at the picture. He knew every piece of that bike by heart, had spent every free moment restoring his girl to her former glory. What the fuck had happened? “This is my bike?” 

 

She could hear the heart break in his voice, “Yup, that’s your bike. “ She sat back and took the pictures from him. Sandy mentioned to me that you had this bike that you loved more than life itself. So, I tried to get in touch with your friends and neighbors to find out what had happened to your things, the Harley specifically. It took weeks of constant phone calls before your lemon-faced neighbor; Mrs. Paul finally returned my phone calls. She told me your things had been sold off and the money put in some kind of fund for your hospital bills.”

 

“SOLD?” John fairly roared at her, “My Harley was SOLD?”

 

“Stupid bitch, yeah, sold.” Bella sighed, “So I was able to wrangle a phone number out of her for the scrap metal dealer the bike had been sold to and God were they mean little fuckers.” 

 

John laughed at her use of that word; his colorful vocabulary was starting to rub off on her. “Mean little fuckers?”

 

“Yeah, they laughed at me when I told them I wanted to buy the bike back and have it restored.”

 

“You bought my bike back?” John was completely dumbfounded. 

 

“Not exactly,” she said, “They quoted me a price for what it would cost to buy the bike, find replacement parts, labor, whatever and it was more money than I would see in two years. So I told them about you, what you had been through and they offered to put the bike back together at no cost.”

 

John wasn't buying that for one second,”Oh they just offered to put Humpty back together again out of the goodness of their hearts, did they?”

 

“Yup,” Bella said. She picked up the pictures and began showing them to him, pictures of the frame then shots of the various stages of the restoration. She stopped at the last picture, holding it up for him to see. It was the bike, looking completely like it had the last time he rode it. There was a sign propped up on the handlebars that read, “Merry 2nd Christmas John, Love Bella.” 

 

John stared at the picture. His head was spinning. He hadn't spoken one word to her, had never smiled at her or held her hand, had never given her anything of himself, yet she had done all of this for him while he slept. 

 

“I couldn't roll the bike into your hospital room, though don’t think I didn't try.” She laughed, “I asked Leo if he could hold on to the bike until you woke up and he laughed, telling me he was a doctor not a mechanic! Of course I had no room for it here, so I called Sandy. She agreed to keep it for you until you were ready for it.” She smiled at the bewildered look on his face. “I bought the helmet and wrapped it up for Christmas. You wouldn't wake your lazy ass up to open it yourself, so I did it for you. I left it on the table by your bedside so you would see it when you woke up.” 

 

This was all too much for John to process. Tears started flowing from his eyes. “Why Bella? Why did you do this for me? You didn't know me, we had never spoken, we weren't friends, I just- why?”

 

She gently wiped the tears from his eyes, kissed his cheek, stroked his hair back from his forehead. “I did it because I love you, John.”


End file.
